Regretfully Uncaring

by RMWB

Harry Potter is a werewolf. Grindelwald is on the move. Voldemort will return with a sinister new motive. Daphne is graced with an unknown power, and Ginny Weasley must battle herself to become the key to it all. Plot-driven with a scoop of romance on the side. Rated M for language, addiction, and references to various forms of abuse. Hinny and Raphne slow burns.

37. Alone Within a Shattered Sky

An earth-shattering crash, followed by the creaking of hundreds of planks of wood, then the inconsistent splattering of water across his face brought Harry out of his trance. Because he wasn't exactly asleep. How could one sleep within a dream, after all?

Adrenaline spiked in his body and he quickly got to his feet, stumbling slightly as the ship he now found himself on swayed on the waves. The sun was beating down on the deck. The small pools of water which had collected on the planks reflected the light, causing a near-blinding effect on Harry.

He shielded his eyes and took in the view. The boat he found himself on was modest in size. It carried two masts, each with two large, white sails. As far as the crew was concerned, there wasn't any. The ship's rigging seemed to control itself. Taking a quick glance up at the helm, Harry found that it too was moving on its own. In all honesty, this was likely a staple in the real, physical, magical world.

There were two figures standing at the bow of the ship. The skies were a picturesque clear blue dotted with small fluffy clouds. The wind wasn't entirely noticeable, yet the sails were in full billow. The way he felt in the pit of his stomach was all off. Like gravity wasn't acting the way it was supposed to.

The waves were loud as Harry made his way towards the two blurry shapes holding on to the railing facing the bowsprit. The closer he got, the more detailed they became.

A woman with long, flowing red hair stood next to an extremely pale man with long dark hair. Their faces had yet to come into view.

"Potter!" the man cried. His face, which had remained distorted, seemed to move through a filter before coming into view.

It was Regulus.

He looked sickly. Like he hadn't seen the light of day in years.

Like a corpse.

The woman with red hair must have been Ginny, Harry deduced. He carefully climbed the steps and came to stand in between her and Regulus. He quickly noticed that Ginny was further away than he'd originally thought.

"Things don't work the way they're supposed to," Ginny yelled over the crash of the waves.

Harry nodded. Everything was off. The way he felt, the way the ship rocked, the way nothing was clearly in focus. Like his mind was coming up with things the closer he got to them. He finally turned to Ginny.

She wasn't the same Ginny he'd gotten used to by this point. She was… older, for one thing. Her cheeks were sunken. Her eyes were bloodshot, layered with dark circles, creating a sort of shadow on her face. Her hair was thinner, lifeless. "To navigate a dream, you must become one with the dreamer," she continued.

"And how exactly do you do that?" Regulus asked.

Harry was startled somewhat by his voice. His focus had been entirely lost to Ginny's decrepit appearance.

Ginny chose not to answer with words. She gestured in a wide sweeping motion to the port side of the ship. Harry walked to look over the edge.

He gasped.

They were not sailing on water. The ship was crashing through a deep brown sea, occasionally broken by greyish-blue lines. This was not consistent, however.

The ship seemed to be precariously balanced on this strip of brown ocean. For beyond its narrow reaches was an abyss the likes of which Harry found difficult to describe. No light penetrated its mass. It seemed as though the sea they found themselves on wrapped around the dark hole.

"We're sailing in circles!" Harry cried, announcing his observation.

"That is because we've yet to enter the soul," Ginny explained absently. "It's our gateway,"

Harry whirled around. "You mean we've got to sail down into it?"

Ginny shrugged and brought an apple to her lips. Something she hadn't had before. Harry shrugged it off and waited for her to give a proper answer. "It won't let us in unless he wishes it,"

Regulus seemed to understand that, and Harry took it to mean Voldemort, so he let Ginny continue her vague wanderings.

He turned back to the strange sea.

The horizon, and beyond that, the sky, was peppered with thousands of twinkling stars even though the sun shone brightly directly over top of the abyss. It was thoroughly confusing. Every ounce of logic was broken just by staring out into the first glimpse of Voldemort's soul.

As the boat continued its endless journey around the brown ring of ocean, Harry noticed something. The odd occasional change in colour of the sea - from brown to greyish blue - it was familiar, in a strange sense. Like something his brain seemed to know yet couldn't place its finger on what it was.

"An eye," he breathed, the realization taking him by surprise. "We're sailing on an eye. The darkness is the pupil… the waves are the iris!"

Regulus whistled in apparent amazement, stuffing his hands into his pockets and staring out into the void. Harry's deduction had garnered Ginny's attention as well. She strode over to the side of the ship and peered over the edge.

"I'd never noticed that…" she rubbed her left wrist, "After a certain while… he stopped bothering with the whole entrance act,"

Ginny then turned around and swept off to the capstan. She raised her hand in front of her, and flexed her fingers, forcing them to spread apart and stretching the thin webbing found between them.

She gently placed her palm flat against the capstan and closed her eyes.

Suddenly, like Harry's brain had somehow lost connection to his ears, all sound was drowned out. The waves, the wind, the creaking deck of the ship. All of it was lost. All Harry could hear now was the steady beating of Ginny's heart.

Compared to his, she might as well have been dead for how calm it seemed. Harry felt as though his ribs would crack if he did so much as breathe.

Then, like an explosion breaking a desert silence, Ginny took in a deep breath, lifted her hand off the capstan for a moment, and then exhaled, dropping her palm to its smooth wooden surface once again.

Her breaths were so loud that Harry nearly felt the need to cup his hands over his ears.

Eventually, the sound level died down, but still, all Harry could hear was Ginny's breathing and her heartbeat.

Then, a second heartbeat seemed to echo from over the edge of the ship.

From within the eye.

Another set of breathing could be heard now, answering Ginny's call.

The ship hit a stronger wave, forcing it to move to the left slightly. Closer to the pupil. It quickly became clear to Harry that this rogue wave was no coincidence. The iris was pushing the ship down into the eye.

Still, Harry could hear nothing but synchronized heartbeats and breathing. A cold wind brushed against his face. Its force seemed to linger against his skin as if he was passing through a spiderweb. Then, the resistance broke, and the ship gave in to the waves motions.

It banked far to its port side. Harry grabbed hold of the railing for dear life. He noticed Regulus mimic his actions.

Then, the heartbeats and breathing ceased their song. Harry turned to look over at Ginny. The ship was diving off the edge of the iris, into the silent abyss.

Her eyes were a deep shade of red. They seemed to carry a different sort of evil than whatever Voldemort had possessed in the graveyard and afterward. There were centuries of hatred hidden behind whatever mask she wore now.

Harry kept his expression calm. He wouldn't let this trick deceive him.

"We're going to be separated," said Ginny, her voice breaking through the impenetrable silence eerily. "Stay on the boat. Stay with Regulus… trust him,"

Harry clenched his jaw and shook his head. "We agreed we wouldn't do that,"

Ginny shrugged and stared intently at Harry. Her eyes roamed over every feature on his face. Every muscle on his body. There were tears forming in the corners of her eyes. It created a strange picture. The scarlet iris so typically associated with evil showed nothing but grief and remorse. "Don't wait for me," her voice broke, her chest heaving erratically.

Harry felt lightheaded as the ship finally fell off its ring of brown sea and into Riddle's soul. Ginny took a step towards the edge of the vessel and climbed onto the railing. Her limp, thinned hair billowing behind her, she sat on her temporary seat, as though preparing to slide off a dock into the water.

"Ginny!" Harry called.

Ginny turned her head to face him. She smiled ruefully and shook her head. "Let me fall."

Horrified, Harry let go of his railing and took a step toward her, but it was too late. Ginny slid off the edge of the ship, spiraling down into the pupil, lost to whatever Tom Riddle's mind would do with her.

"Potter get back-" whatever Regulus was going to say next was drowned out as Harry lost his footing and slid into the railing Ginny had just plummeted off of. Before he could get a reasonable grip on anything around him, he tumbled off its edge.

---

Regretfully Uncaring

Chapter 37: Alone Within a Shattered Sky

---

Ginny landed gently on a sprawling grassy plain. It was familiar. Everything about this strange place was familiar. Her legs gave out from under her as she collapsed to the ground in tears. She was not sobbing; her shoulders were not shaking. She didn't have the emotion here to care for such things. Yet the tears came, nonetheless. They seemed impossible to stop. Like a great, overwhelming sense of guilt and regret that had been piled far too high for far too long was finally crashing down.

"Ginny?" a man's voice echoed through the empty space. "Ginny, is that you?"

Ginny looked up. At first, she thought her eyes were deceiving her. Then, she wiped away at the tears, clearing her vision, and felt another wave of remorse overcome her. "Charlie!" she wept, covering her eyes in the process.

Charlie took a step towards her and knelt beside her. Ginny could imagine his facial expression. His complete lack of understanding of others' emotions. He was probably debating what to do in this situation. How to handle the mental breakdown of a teenage girl.

"I reckon this would've been good practice for my daughter then," he quipped, but it only worsened Ginny's great sense of loss. He'd never get to comfort his daughter. He'd never get to hold her. He'd never get to be there.

She heard him sit himself down on the grass properly and waited for the inevitable.

It was like sipping a warm cup of hot chocolate after spending hours out in the cold when Charlie finally wrapped his arms around her frail, pale body. Enveloping her in a brotherly love she'd only ever been able to truly receive from him and Bill.

Her right arm was pinned against her side, but her left was unrestrained. She hesitantly reached forward, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck to pull her closer into the embrace.

"You're alright," Charlie whispered into her hair. "You're safe now,"

Ginny couldn't handle it. There was not a singular reason behind her sorrow. Whether it was Harry's distrust, her feelings for Tom Riddle, the second life she'd lived for a year, or perhaps even the death of the very man she was currently comforted by. Maybe it was her supposed infertility, something that cast a shadow over any potential future she'd always envisioned. It could have been due to the raw guilt and regret of having taken over Lily Potter in Harry's mind. The fact that she was partially responsible for destroying the one thing Harry loved most. For making his greatest fear a reality.

It was all so much. It was all too much. She wanted to talk about it, yet she wanted to remain silent. She wanted to pretend none of it mattered, that none of it happened, yet the anxiety and the pain such a tactic caused were immeasurable. She wanted to run and scream until the farthest reaches of the earth had heard and understood why she hated every waking moment of her life.

All of it was irrelevant. None of it mattered. They were her troubles. Nothing about them carried any weight outside of the horrors of her mind.

Slowly, she regained control over her emotions and took a deep, shuddering breath. She let go of Charlie's neck and sat back against a rock that hadn't been there before. Charlie dislodged his arm from around her back and sat patiently beside her, waiting for her to talk.

Ginny didn't even know where to begin.

"You've been in love, right?" she asked after a long pause listening to distant birds living in invisible, unnatural forests.

Charlie nodded. "I was married, you know,"

Ginny sighed. "That doesn't mean you loved her. She got pregnant and you panicked,"

"True… do you want my honest answer, then?" Charlie asked.

Ginny tossed that question around in her head. She watched the strange sky, made up of a hundred thousand different shades of pink and gold, stars visible even through the apparent daylight. There was no sun or moon, however. Absently, Ginny wondered how she'd been able to confuse the two realities. How could she have thought this place was real?

"In hindsight I know that the woman I loved was not the woman I married," Charlie said, unprompted.

Yet, that doubt remained. How could she not have thought this was real? It was perfect. She was in control. She had power here.

"I should have stuck by the woman I loved," Charlie continued.

Ginny focused back in on the conversation. "Who did you love?"

"Tonks,"

Ginny nodded. Not having forgotten the many visits over the summers of her childhood. "Why did you let her go?"

Charlie bit his cheek. "I was a fool. I made mistakes… I failed to show the amount of attention and love I felt she deserved… I failed."

"Do you regret that? Letting her slip through your fingers?" Ginny asked.

Charlie nodded solemnly. "I regret not doing enough to fix things after the fact. I regret that I didn't care. I didn't care to help myself, or her. I broke her heart. I wish I could have fixed that."

Ginny felt her chest constrict inexplicably, and she turned to face her lost brother. "Do you think she should have stayed with you? Stuck by you? Seen if her attention, her love for you could set you on the right course?"

Charlie furrowed his brow in confusion as Ginny began to shake with rage. "Is that what you think I should do, Tom? Don't think you can hide from me."

Charlie's face remained obtuse until, quite delicately, his lips curved into a smile.

"That is why you were so effective," Charlie whispered, his hair shifting to black, his features stretching into the handsome visage of a slightly older Tom Riddle than the one Ginny had gotten to know in the diary. He was paler, his fine features more prominent, but his eyes had changed.

His eyes were scarlet.

"Your cunning and your ability to manipulate were impressive, yes… but it was your mind, your resolve, that gave you such strength." Tom finished.

Ginny stared up at him in silence for a long while before finally turning her head to look back out over the horizon.

"You don't seem phased by my appearance," Tom noted absently.

Ginny shrugged, analyzing each and every detail of the land beyond. It was a jumping-off point. Where the world disintegrated and where reality was held together by fleeting memories and distant thoughts.

Tom shifted beside her; his body turned to face her. "You want something. Don't you?"

Ginny felt tears press at the back of her eyes again. "I need your help to get something," she whispered. "Like before."

She turned to face Tom and was not entirely surprised to see a touch of confusion there.

"I need release," Ginny elaborated. "Only I can't go through with it the same way as before."

Tom smiled again. Not the kind one of his younger self, but the corrupted, twisted version Voldemort held in the present. "You make sure to avoid discussing it. Even with me."

Ginny closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You know I can't make more."

Tom nodded. "The fact that you've made it this far is rather impressive."

Ginny shook her head, tears slipping out from under her eyelids. "Just tell me there's a way."

Tom straightened his back and let out a long breath. "Regretfully Uncaring is a path you can take to distance yourself from these thoughts. It shrouds emotion… makes everything… a little easier,"

Ginny looked up at Tom tearfully. "Teach me."

---

Harry felt as though he'd never stop falling. Everything was a mix of sound and colour. Occasionally, a portion of memory would appear, or an emotion visualized, but for the most part, he was falling through a sea of stars.

Then, quite suddenly, he felt a pull. Like some gravitational force was drawing him in. At first, he fought it, but as he continued to spiral down into nothingness, he decided to give in. Allowing the attraction.

It was different from the strange magnetism in his chest to Ginny, something he couldn't feel at present. It seemed this was a place for the mind and the mind alone. His physicality meant nothing here.

The force strengthened, and Harry felt his body pick up speed as, quite suddenly, he crashed into a solid object.

Blearily opening his eyes, he assessed his surroundings.

There was no floor, nor sky in this strange world. There was very little sound. Nothing but a faint ticking.

Harry straightened. Grindelwald's riddles in the Peverell Chamber echoing through his mind. "Where you lie is the closest you can possibly come to the clock. Be wary."

Had Grindelwald been referring to that very moment in the Peverell Chamber? Or was he giving Harry a warning of the future?

The ticking was the only thing Harry could observe, however. It was the only lead Harry had.

And so he followed it.

Carefully at first, he slowly made his way towards the sound. It grew louder and louder until it pounded in his ears.

Then, he felt someone grip his wrist and whirl him around. Like the flip of a switch, the world around him gained colour and detail. Complexity and life. A sprawling cityscape stretched below him, before suddenly appearing all around him.

The ticking quieted to a near-impossible degree, and Harry found himself standing in the middle of some strange, unidentifiable town square.

Whoever had gripped his wrist was nowhere to be found. Harry spun on the spot, inspecting his surroundings and attempting to find the perpetrator.

Instead, all he found was a large crack in the town. Not something caused by erosion and decay, but a legitimate crack through reality. Like a splintered mirror.

Light shone through from within the crack, and no matter how Harry turned his head, the crack never seemed to behave the way it should have. It moved and changed its shape slightly. Like it was fighting to stay in Harry's view.

Then, quite suddenly, the voice of a young girl erupted into the square. "August thirty-first, nineteen ninety-two. Tomorrow will be my first day at Hogwarts. I know it's silly to write about this sort of thing but I haven't got anyone to talk to now that Harry's here and Ron's too busy for me. I'm not much of a writer, I'll be honest. Mum always seems to think that we should write creatively, and broaden our minds. We all did it in our years at home before school."

Harry turned on the spot, attempting to locate the source of the voice. Its sound was blaring from all around him. Then, the light was suddenly drained from the world entirely. The town square vanished, and nothing save for the shining white rift in reality remained.

Harry was standing on solid ground, except there was nothing to be seen around him. The voice continued.

"Anyway, I'm rambling now. Charlie says I do that a lot, but I think he's just impatient. As I was saying, I'm not much of a writer, but I don't know. My dad got me this as a surprise gift and I feel rather compelled to use it. I do hope tomorrow is…"

On and on it went. Ginny's first-ever entry into Tom Riddle's soul was gut-wrenchingly innocent. Harry could picture her sitting at her cramped writing desk, scribbling away with bright hopes for the future. Worried over whether or not the great Harry Potter thought she was interesting enough to befriend.

Harry felt it then; the stirring of a long-tormented soul. Like the waking breaths of a sleeping dragon.

Tom Riddle's first ever Horcrux, rising to meet Ginny's diary entry.

It was an explosion of colour, and Harry then realized that he was not watching from Tom's perspective. No, he was watching from the Horcrux itself. The very world it created. Before Harry's eyes, a great swirling mass of reds, blacks, and oranges moved about the imagined space.

"Sorry to interrupt," Tom's voice whispered from the swirling form. "I do think it would be rude for me to continue to listen without you knowing my name,"

"Name?" Ginny's voice replied.

"Yes. You've told me yours, inadvertently or otherwise… I assume it would be rude of me to fail to reply,"

Ginny waited.

"My name is Tom Riddle. I can be your confidant, your friend, whatever you like. All you have to do is write."

It was so simple, yet even the way his tone shifted on its final note made Harry's skin crawl. He was already scheming.

"Oh this was no scheme," a deeper voice penetrated the strange show of memories Harry was experiencing. "Watch how she falls. Watch how very real everything was. Watch her fail."

"Riddle!" Harry screamed into the void. "Where is she!"

"You're going to see things she herself has yet to acknowledge. You'll get to see what her mind has truly become. Who she really is," Harry could hear the smile in Tom's voice.

Anger and guilt pooled in the pit of Harry's stomach.

"You don't care for her. You don't want her inside your head. You wish she'd never spoken to you after your bite. You wish she'd never discovered anything about you. She's the reason behind all of it. She forced you away from Hermione. She forced you to hide from Ronald. She's the reason your mother is dead once more."

Harry shook his head. The contrasting voices of young Ginny and Tom from the Diary all while Voldemort from Hufflepuff's cup spoke over it.

"That isn't true!"

"Isn't it?" Tom sneered. "You want your mother back? I'll show you what you need to never trust Ginevra again. I'll show you what you need to reconnect with Lily Potter."

Harry's mind felt like it was being prodded in all areas. Like every thought and memory was being broadcast to the attacker. His mother had always held his occlumency shields in place. Now he was stuck with being forced to undergo a full mental assault. It was excruciating.

"Now watch, Harry Potter. Watch her!"

The background conversation ceased, and Harry felt like he was falling. Farther and farther, he fell into the memories that shouldn't have even belonged to this Horcrux. How were they communicating?

It didn't matter, because soon, his body slammed into the earth. Sunlight streamed through a canopy of trees.

He could hear the sounds of a young girl waking up. He turned over and watched as a young Ginny got to her feet, brushing leaves off her jumper. "Hello?" she called.

Harry remained silent. He knew his place in these memories was nothing but an observer. He couldn't interfere.

"Ginny?"

Harry whirled around, coming face to face with a young Tom Riddle. He appeared no older than eleven.

Ginny clamped her hands into a fist and held them in front of her. "Who are you?"

Tom smiled. "It's me! It's Tom."

Ginny let out a sigh of relief and let her arms drop. "Where are we?"

"A forest," Tom replied cryptically.

The memory played out linearly. Tom and Ginny walked around in the forest, occasionally playing with sticks and stones. Most importantly, they talked. Tom divulged piles of information about the orphanage. He made himself out to be a sympathetic character. Harry could see Ginny falling for it. He would have had he been in her shoes.

"Well my name isn't really Ginny," she said quietly.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "What is it then?"

Ginny blushed. Harry hadn't seen her do that in a long time. "It's Ginevra."

Tom grinned. "That's a beautiful name!"

Ginny scowled. "It is not! It sounds like some medieval maiden… which I am not."

Tom held his hands up in mock surrender. "I disagree. I'm going to call you that now. Ginevra."

The memory changed. Tom was noticeably older. Perhaps thirteen or fourteen. Ginny had aged as well. It was shocking that she hadn't noticed. Perhaps Tom had yet to allow her near a mirror.

"There are two spells you want a good handle over if you want to be taken seriously," Tom instructed, his voice calm and assertive. "The first is called the cruciatus curse,"

Ginny frowned. "I feel like I've heard of that before…" she trailed off, biting her lip.

Tom shook his head. "I doubt it. It's incredibly rare and isn't really… well it's not for the faint of heart."

Tom retrieved a small rabbit from behind his back. "I want you to attempt the spell on this rabbit."

Ginny swallowed and nodded. "It won't hurt it, right?"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "You can't possibly think people will take you seriously if they don't fear you."

Ginny folded her arms across her chest and leaned into her hip. "That's a stupid way to think."

Tom shook his head, mirroring her stance. "Fear is a tool. A tool that has been ridiculously mishandled throughout history. People believe that fear is power. That they are one and the same." Tom flexed his hand. "They're wrong. The ability to conduct fear for personal gain… that is power."

Ginny hummed in acknowledgment. "And if I don't seek power?"

Tom smiled. "You will. It is intoxicating. The most wonderful feeling in the world is when you command respect. When you walk into a room and there is no doubt that you, you," he prodded Ginny in the chest. "Are in control."

Ginny bit the inside of her cheek again. Harry could see it in her eyes. Perhaps it was part of the benefits of living in a dream. He could see her mulling it over. Dreaming of respect, control, and power. It wasn't all too different from Ron's dreams of admiration and respect whilst staring at his reflection in the Mirror of Erised.

Finally, like taking a jump off a cliff, she nodded.

Tom's smile broadened. "Good, now, point your wand at the rabbit and think of how you can make it fear you. Picture what you want it to think when it sees you. Let that image flow through you, into your wand, and say crucio."

Ginny nodded along to everything Tom said and held her wand at the rabbit. "Crucio!"

The rabbit was hit with the blinding orange light and squeaked, but otherwise remained unaffected.

Ginny sighed and tried again. And again. And again. Until finally she grew too frustrated to think.

"You have to mean it," Tom explained.

Ginny scowled and lowered her want in irritation. "I do mean it. But it still, just… isn't working!"

Tom smiled sympathetically. "Well, maybe it's time we took a different approach," he waved his wand and levitated the rabbit up into his hand, where he promptly stuffed it in his pocket. "Come," he whispered.

Harry watched as Tom led Ginny out of the forest and towards a cliff face. Harry could smell the sea and watched as Tom flirted with Ginny, leading her down the rocky edge. Harry didn't have to follow, the memory brought him along with them. Tom teased Ginny, always referring to her as Ginevra.

Tom enlarged the cave entrance and guided her through. It was cold and evil. Just as it had been when Harry had gone not three days prior in the real world.

Where Harry had felt uncomfortable and visibly upset, Ginny seemed fascinated with the cave. Goose pimples erupted all over her skin, but her eyes flashed with a naïve intrigue. Suddenly her face dawned an odd smile.

Harry felt blindsided. Ginny liked how the cave made her feel.

Tom brought the rabbit out of his pocket again and told Ginny to draw her wand. "You need to mean it… really mean it,"

Ginny pressed her lips together nervously. "But Tom… the image I have in my head… what would… command respect," she cleared her throat. "I just don't see much reason to harm a rabbit,"

Harry felt an icy chill run through his body. Ginny's first thought of what would grant her what she wanted was to harm others.

Though, the more he thought on it the more it wasn't so abhorrent. If Harry at eleven had been asked the same question, he'd have taken on the same answer. All he'd ever known was pain and suffering from the moment he arrived on the Dursley's doorstep. He had always associated harm with respect, whether it was done subconsciously or not.

But why would Ginny have thought that? Had Tom already maneuvered her mind in these dark directions, or had she always thought like this?

Tom seemed pleased with her question, though he hid it well. His face dawned a concerned expression. "Well, because I want you to do it, of course. Is that not meaning enough?"

Ginny swallowed hard and cleared her throat. She raised her wand and pointed it directly at the rabbit. "Crucio."

The jet of orange light remained attached to her wand as it began to torment the rabbit. It squeaked and writhed; its body contorting horribly. Ginny's eyes twitched slightly, and her pupils dilated somewhat. The spell didn't break.

Tom's expression went from curiosity to glee as Ginny failed to relinquish control of the spell.

"How do I stop it?" she asked tonelessly.

Tom shrugged, though Ginny would not have seen it. Her eyes were focused on the rabbit. "Do you want to?"

Ginny opened her mouth to reply but stopped herself. She nodded slowly, but her expression seemed to betray her thoughts.

"If you don't want it to end you don't have to," Tom promised. "You can hold it longer."

Ginny blinked rapidly and shook her head violently. As though she was dispelling intruding thoughts. She took a deep breath and finally relinquished the spell. The rabbit lay on the stone floor, quiet and still.

"How was that?" Tom asked. "Are you tired?"

Ginny shook her head and collapsed to the ground. "I'm not tired… I just… what was that?"

Tom peered at her curiously, coming to sit beside her. "That is what power feels like."

The scene changed again. Now Ginny was staring at her reflection in the mirror. She was older than she was even now. Easily sixteen or seventeen. She was beautiful. "Why do I look older?"

"Don't you like it?" Tom asked, puzzled. "I know I do." It was clear by the way they acted around each other that many months had gone by in the dream. Ginny was no longer blushing every time he looked her way. She seemed far more comfortable with herself.

Riddle was aging her.

The scenes flashed by. Tom had created a living breathing world inside Ginny's head. Dumbledore was here, as were the rest of the Weasleys. There was something off about how they interacted, however. Ginny didn't seem to notice but Harry could pick out the way Mrs. Weasley spoke to her children as being distinctly out of character. Mr. Weasley was practically absent. Always at work or too tired to interact. Ron and the twins continuously ignored her. Percy was his usual pratish self, but again, it was more noticeable. It's like Riddle was subtly and slowly turning Ginny away from her family.

Another aspect of the Diary that had Harry scratching his head was the way Dumbledore acted. He was needlessly reckless and cruel. It wouldn't have been necessarily noticeable had Harry not had plenty of first-hand experience with the real Dumbledore.

It was a masterful play of manipulation. Everything from the way Tom portrayed himself, to the world around her. He was controlling every aspect of Ginny's perspective and he'd yet to raise any suspicion.

Tom and Ginny were now standing on a sort of terrace. Harry floating slightly above them. It appeared similar to the Riddle House they'd escaped from a month ago.

"The stars are beautiful tonight, don't you think?" Ginny noted to Tom absently. She wasn't even eyeing the sky. Her focus was held entirely by Riddle.

"They are," said Tom, seemingly unaware of Ginny's attention. He brought his eyes down to meet hers and Harry watched as his pupils dilated. There was no doubt that Tom Riddle was attracted to Ginny in some manner. It was deeply unsettling.

"I have a gift for you," said Tom quietly. Ginny gave a sort of involuntary shiver, her cheeks flushing for the first time in a while.

It was how Ginny looked at Harry.

Riddle then retrieved a large golden locket from his pocket and showed it to Ginny. Harry could feel the power radiating from the locket, but Ginny either didn't notice or didn't care. Her protests were due to its value, not its dark aura.

"Ginevra you're worth more than gold," Tom insisted, emotion leaking out into his voice.

"I wish you wouldn't call me that," Ginny complained. "I like it when people call me Ginny,"

Tom smiled and shook his head. "Your given name is beautiful. As is the woman you've become."

He unclasped the chain and took a step toward Ginny. Their bodies melded together as Tom wrapped the chain around her neck and sealed whatever magic the locket carried. His hands wove around her neck to place the locket properly, occasionally caressing her skin.

"This gift is beyond measure," Tom explained in a hushed whisper. "A piece of my soul… of my love for you,"

Harry frowned. Though everything about what he was seeing was deeply upsetting, he was already aware of the vast majority of it.

Tom was gifting her imaginary Horcruxes. Or perhaps they were more than that. Was it possible to split your soul in a dream?

Harry watched as Tom kissed Ginny on that terrace below the stars.

On and on the memories went.

Ginny was laying flat on the ground, panting. Her face was streaked with mud, tears, and blood. There were fires burning all around them.

"I TOLD YOU THIS WOULD HAPPEN!" Dumbledore roared from across the field. He was standing over Tom Riddle, laying crumpled and defeated. "I TOLD YOU HE'D TRY AND TAKE IT FROM ME!"

"NO!" Ginny cried, trying and failing to get to her feet.

"Stay down, girl!" Dumbledore warned. "You're not a part of this fight."

Dumbledore leveled his wand at Tom. "Crucio!"

Tom writhed and screamed on the ground. Ginny was panicking. Crying desperately for Dumbledore to stop.

"HELP!" Tom screamed in agony. "HELP ME!" he was staring directly at Ginny.

Ginny gripped her wand and aimed it at Dumbledore from her spot, sprawled on the ground. "Stupefy!"

Dumbledore waved his hand, sending the spell flying in another direction. "Don't think you can take it away from me. You can't win against the great, Albus Dumbledore!"

Harry had no idea what 'it' was, but clearly this had been some sort of narrative Tom had been spinning for some time.

Ginny slowly got to her feet on wobbly knees. She raised her wand and closed her eyes, focusing everything she had on the spell.

"Soon, he will lose his mind. Soon, he will be nothing but a walking shell of a man!" Dumbledore jeered.

Ginny's eyes shot back open in a blind panic. She was scrambling for a solution and Harry could practically feel the emotions radiating off her.

"GINEVRA, DO IT!" Tom cried, tears running down his face. "PLEASE! YOU KNOW THE SPELL!"

It seemed that was the final straw. She raised her wand and without hesitation shouted, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Harry gasped as the jet of green light illuminated the dark hilltop and slammed into the manic Dumbledore, blasting him up into the air and down to the ground, dead.

Ginny's breath caught as she collapsed to the ground, wide-eyed. Harry didn't think when he rushed towards her, dropping to his knees. He slid on the grass and went straight through her.

This was a memory. There was nothing he could do.

Tom got to his feet, concern riddling his features. He ran over to Ginny and gripped her by the shoulders. "Ginevra! Ginevra, can you hear me?"

"I killed him," she mumbled. "I've killed Albus Dumbledore."

Tom sighed. "Thank you. Thank you for saving me,"

Ginny gave no attention to Tom's thanks. She broke down into tears, hiding her face behind her hands. "What have I done!" she sobbed.

The scene changed, and Harry felt an ever-increasing swell of fear in the pit of his stomach.

"Get out of our house! You've found your new family!" Molly Weasley screeched, throwing a battered trunk out of the door of the burrow. "He's given you fame and money. You're nothing but a murderer! MURDERER!"

Ginny walked alone in the rain, coming to the doorstep of the Riddle House. Tom accepted her, guided her, helped her sit down, and place her things.

"I don't want to feel this way," she said, rocking back and forth. "I hate how empty I feel. I hate the regret."

Tom sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her in. "There is… a way to stop it."

Ginny took another sip from the bottle of wine in her hand. "How?"

"You can cut away that… piece of you that hurts so much. That piece of you that… that hates itself." Tom explained. "You can get rid of it."

Ginny sat up straight spilling some of the wine and bringing herself to Tom's eye level. "How. Tell me how."

Tom smiled sympathetically and stood from the sofa, striding over to a coffee table and retrieving a small golden cup. He tapped it with his wand and walked back over to Ginny and handed it to her. "I've already placed the runes," he wrapped her hand around Hufflepuff's cup. "All you have to do is focus on all of that hurt. All of the regret... and push it out through your wand arm and onto this. Think of it like… ripping off a piece of you… you hate that piece. Drive it away from you!"

Ginny held the cup in her left hand firmly. She took deep shuddering breaths, the tears leaking out of her eyes and slipping down her cheeks. She pointed her wand at the cup and held it there. Closing her eyes, she steadied her breathing and fell silent.

Harry didn't want to watch this. He didn't want to watch Ginny tear her soul to pieces.

She screamed as dark tendrils of magic swirled around her arms and through her wand into the cup. Her eyelids shot open and Harry was greeted with an all too familiar sight.

The scarlet red eyes of a shattered soul.

Harry couldn't stand it. Watching the pain so evident on her features. Hear her tormented screams, her cries for help as she forced her soul apart.

It seemed his desire to move forward was heard by Tom's memories because the scene changed again.

She was writhing on the floor, screaming underneath Tom. He held a red hot iron in his hand, a familiar mark etched on its flat. "Stop moving!" he shouted. Ginny immediately froze, whimpering from the pain of the initial burn. "It'll be over quick, I promise," he took the iron emblazoned with the dark mark and embedded it into the skin of her inner forearm. Ginny's scarlet eyes wept in silence as she fought the urge to scream from the pain. Once Tom was finally finished, the dark mark coiled and ran its way around her arm before settling in its familiar spot.

The memories changed. Ginny was running down the palace steps, carrying her ballgown by the hems and crying.

Harry watched as Tom caught up with her. Watched her plead with him to let her go. She'd seen this was a dream. She knew it wasn't real.

"This isn't real, Tom. THIS ISN'T REAL!"

"You love me! You need me!"

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

Again the memory changed. She'd returned, and Tom was disappointed. He gave her a diadem, it seemed to dull her emotions slightly, but Harry could see that Ginny's lack of energy was more so caused by the fact that she'd begun to give up.

He could see it in her eyes. She was letting herself fall.

Harry's eyes widened as he realized what she'd meant as she'd jumped off the ship and into the iris hours ago.

"Let me fall."

Panic gripped Harry's senses. Ginny was seeking out Tom Riddle. For what, he did not know.

The memory shifted once again. There was fire everywhere. So much fire. The air smelt of burnt flesh and death. "I wanted a daughter who'd listen! Who knew her place and stayed there! Not a murderer!" Molly Weasley bellowed from behind Harry. He whirled around to inspect the scene.

The Weasleys were surrounding Ginny now. Each and every one of them pointing and jeering. Ron and Percy were particularly cruel with their words. Their combined voices were enough to drive Harry mad.

It was every insecurity Ginny had ever felt; thought even for the briefest of moments. All of it was constantly being thrown at her and Harry could do nothing but watch as she lost her temper, firing off a spell at her mother that left a hole in the building behind her.

"It was an accident!" Ginny defended pleadingly as her family swept away from her, throwing careless insults and petty remarks as they left.

The scene changed again. Ginny was fumbling with another precious object. Harry couldn't see which one it was. It didn't seem to matter either way. The dark mark on her arm shone a violent red. Harry noticed that her dominant hand had changed. She was gripping the object with her right hand while she used her left to conduct the magic.

"Ginevra what are you doing?" Tom asked, barrelling into the room.

Ginny glanced up misty-eyed and shrugged. "Making it easier," the dark swirls of magic extended from her head and poured another portion of her soul into the object. She didn't scream this time. Her eyes remained open the entire way through the process. The shade of red darkened somewhat as the tendrils vanished, and another Horcrux was made.

The memories continued to spin by but Harry truly did not think it could get any worse.

"Do you see? Harry Potter? She is not redeemable. She is a villain. Cruel and despicable. Words cannot describe her crimes. Is she the woman you wish to inhabit your mind? How could you befriend a monster?" Tom's voice echoed all around his memories.

But as Harry watched Ginny continue to fall apart. As she made more Horcruxes, driven by nothing more than a craving for a release of guilt and regret. He didn't feel repulsed by her. He was not afraid of her.

He felt terribly bad for her. He could do nothing but watch as she started to kill for no reason besides creating another Horcrux, seeking that simple floating, indifferent sensation a Horcrux seemed to provide. How she begged Tom to let her split her soul just one last time.

"Your empathy is your greatest weakness, Potter. She will betray you. She will choose power over you."

The memory changed once more. The city was burning. Ginny walked alone, Hufflepuff's cup in hand.

"GINNY!"

She turned around, her eyes unseeing as Ron came running forward carrying a dagger.

"COWARD!" Ron roared. "TRAITOR! I'm going to kill you the way you murdered our mother! I WANT YOU DEAD!" Ron ran towards her, dagger in hand in a blind rage. Tears streaked his face, but Ginny remained expressionless.

As Ron reached her, the tip of the dagger nearly penetrating the skin on her chest, she grabbed his arm and twisted it, breaking his wrist.

The dagger fell to the ground and Ron with it.

He scrambled into a crab position, but Ginny didn't seem to care. She took the dagger and without waiting for Ron to say anything, plunged it into his stomach. "She was no mother of mine," Ginny ground out, twisting the dagger causing Ron to convulse awkwardly. "Join her like the rest," she spat.

Harry felt sick to his stomach, and just as the memories were shifting once again, he closed his eyes.

Unexpectedly, it put a stop to the constant barrage of emotions and sounds from the horrific display. Harry focused on the sound of his breathing.

He breathed in for three seconds, then out for three. He focused on Ginny. The one he knew. The one he cared for. The one he'd dreamt of and cried for. The one who made him smile so much his face hurt with her stupid, inconsequential letters about small feet and birthday surprises.

He thought of the Ginny who came to him on the balcony of his bedroom at Potter Manor and told him she didn't care about his affliction. Who reassured him of his insecurities and comforted him when he first showed any sign of true vulnerability.

Ginny, who worked tirelessly for months to become an animagus in secret because she wanted to make sure he, Harry, wouldn't feel alone on full moons.

The Ginny who stole her brother's broomsticks and taught herself how to fly because her thirst to prove herself was comparable to that of a man lost in a desert. The Ginny who would fail and get back up because she refused to let herself fall. Refused to let herself give up.

He thought of the girl who blushed like the setting sun every time he took her by surprise after rounding a corner. Of the one who adamantly refused to leave a flying car without knowing if he was possessed or not because she cared. Even though he himself had given little to no thought to her first year, she was constantly making sure that no one would have to undergo what she'd gone through.

Because Ginny Weasley cared. She cared so much it was a fault. Like how she continued to feed into Riddle's narrative because she wanted so desperately for him to be good. She wished to help him, to save him.

And in turn, she allowed him to take advantage of her. To manipulate her into a situation she couldn't crawl her way out of. Forced her hand to dig a hole so deep that not even the most powerful occlumens could hold it out. An addiction with terrifying emotional control. Magic she was forced to depend on so violently that she became someone Harry couldn't recognize.

But that wasn't Ginny Weasley.

Ginny Weasley was independent, witty, terrifying, beautiful, creative, caring, and understanding. Harry would need to set aside a day for himself and a dictionary to adequately describe who she is and who she could be.

Every minute with her was like standing in the sun for days on end without fearing a burn. It was like for the faintest moment, she was the only real thing in the universe that carried any significance.

That person. That wonderful, talented, priceless person was worth fighting for.

And as the thought raced through his mind, Harry felt the dark cloud of Tom Riddle get tossed to the wind. Because he could never understand the way Harry felt. He felt his senses return as energy rushed through his dreamt body.

No matter what she thought of herself; no matter the damage she'd wreak over her body and mind, she was worth fighting for.

Harry shot to his feet, standing in that strange plane between existence and drifting. He swallowed hard and kneeled, laying his hand flat against the invisible surface. He was standing in an expanse of distant thoughts and forgotten memories. A shattered sky of half-reflections and faded ideas. Surely the very power of thought could break it.

"I was once a part of you," Harry whispered to the very core of the Horcrux he stood within. The faded scar on his forehead gave off a sort of phantom burn. "Feel me now… let me guide myself."

Nothing happened. Harry bit down on his cheek and focused his thoughts through his wand hand. His conviction of once being a Horcrux, followed by his determination to reach Ginny.

It seemed that the latter proved to break the seal because the world seemed to splinter around him. The floor gave way and Harry fell through a dark abyss, down to an expansive field of green.

He landed with a thud and was pleased with the lack of any pain affecting his body. There was a large rock and footprints leading off into the distance. It could have been anyone, but Harry didn't care. It was the only lead he had.

So, as the strange, sunless sky seemed to dim into dusk, Harry set off after the trail of footsteps in the mud.

---

Ginny walked beside Tom as they crossed through the dream. They'd said nothing in the time since she'd made her request. She felt numb, which wasn't altogether awful. She'd rather feel numb than feel anything real at the moment.

This dream was far less coherent than the diary's. Where the diary had replicated the real world and Tom had made an effort of keeping it consistent enough to trick her, this one was disjointed. Like the Horcrux powering it was weaker.

There were large gaping holes in the terrain. Like they were walking on a large roll of parchment that had had holes punched through it at random.

There was a space beyond the grassy fields that Ginny knew the name of without having to think much. She never had to think here.

It was called A Shattered Sky. It wasn't much more than an expanse of strange forgotten memories and distant thoughts. There was a good chance that that was where Harry and Regulus were. She knew the ship would take them back out eventually.

That was, of course, trusting that they had stayed on the ship in the first place. She hoped Regulus kept Harry on a tight enough leash.

It was crucial that Harry and Regulus weren't in the dream for this. She couldn't bear it. Well, in truth, she didn't give a damn about what Regulus thought. It was more Harry's opinion that mattered.

Without them around, there wasn't much in her way.

It was an impulse, asking Tom to supply her with more of what she knew she shouldn't touch again. A craving she'd felt the minute the memories had come flooding back to her back in June. It wasn't so much the power that was intoxicating, but the sense of relief that followed the creation of a Horcrux. She'd suppressed it for so long, but now at the lowest of lows, she'd take it one last time.

Only this time, on her last high, she'd take Tom with her.

They were nearing a small town. A strange irregular collection of houses that didn't go with one another. Some buildings were from Britain while others seemed to originate from other European countries.

It was a collection of places Tom had been, it would seem.

Far off in the distance, beyond the town, was a hill. On top of which stood a large, swirling dark cloud of magic. Constantly moving and shifting as if it was being tossed by the wind. It seemed to react to Ginny's line of sight and quickly scurried out of view.

"What was that?" Ginny asked, a faint trickle of curiosity dripping through her thoughts.

Tom didn't answer, he merely continued his walk to the town. She wondered again if Tom's ship had sent Harry and Regulus back out into the waking world. She wouldn't be joining them. That wasn't how this was going to work.

She was going to sabotage the dream.

Tom led her through streets bustling with half-formed people and places. Their faces undefined by the lack of attention to detail. Every step she took seemed to play a sort of song on the cobblestone. It soothed her aching heart and grieving mind.

There was a rather large house that sat in the middle of the lane, breaking the immersion further than anything else had. Tom walked straight up to it and turned the handle. He held the door open for her and she thanked him.

The house smelled of nothing. Its walls were all painted a dull grey. It reminded her of Tom's memories of the orphanage. Everything was so drab and depressing.

Tom came up from behind and uncircled her waist in his arms. His body pressed against her and she felt that uncomfortably warm sense of familiarity. She didn't like him being so close to her, but she didn't make any move to push him away. "You can wait for me upstairs," he muttered into her hair. "I'll make some tea. It's easier to perform this method with a calm mind."

Ginny nodded, even though she wasn't in need of anything to calm her nerves. She felt nothing at this moment.

Tom let go of her and made his way to a small kitchenette in the corner. She strode towards the stairs and climbed.

They seemed quite old, yet they didn't make any sound. No creaks or groans from the worn steps.

The second floor was significantly smaller than the first. It consisted of two sofas and a pair of doors leading to a large balcony that overlooked the town. Ginny watched as the sky seemed to darken into night. Its many unfamiliar stars glinting alone without a moon.

Ginny sat on the sofa that faced away from the balcony. It was easier that way. She didn't hear Tom come up, only saw him lay a platter down on the coffee table that sat between the sofas. He plopped down opposite her and prepared his own tea.

"I assume you're going to avoid my tea after what I'd done to you in the waking world?" Tom observed.

Ginny shrugged. It didn't really matter. Her soul was a ruined canvas of missed opportunity. Her body wasn't entirely important either.

She knew this was the easiest way to go about it. Putting herself down and prioritizing the immediate was a simple game she could play.

"What is Regretfully Uncaring?" Ginny asked, reaching forward and taking a sip of her tea. It stung as it went down but she moved past it.

Tom sighed and set his cup down delicately. "It is a way of letting go. Allowing your senses to disappear from your consciousness. You can no longer feel, emotionally or physically. You are floating above your very being and it is… well… a wonderful feeling."

Ginny nodded. "How do you do it?" she asked, her leg beginning to bounce on its own accord.

Tom smiled. "It is different for everyone so let me try and explain as best I can," he leaned back against the sofa and weaved his fingers together over his lap. "You want to picture your body as a rock. Something… something that grounds you."

Ginny closed her eyes and tried to imagine plucking a stone from a riverbank. She turned the stone over in her hand.

"I don't mean a physical rock, Ginevra," his tone was light, teasing. "I mean rock as in something that is difficult to move, but not impossible. Something that tethers everything down. Holds you there. Like I said, something that grounds you."

Ginny took a deep breath through her nose, letting go of the mental image of a stone.

What grounded her?

---

Harry followed their footsteps through the unfinished fields. The sky had gone dark now, Tom was making a move.

When Harry was here, in Tom's mind, it was very difficult to refer to him as Voldemort. It wasn't who this was. No matter what he'd called himself, Voldemort wasn't an identity that Harry could picture on the handsome, slim young man he knew to inhabit this Horcrux.

The air seemed to get colder as Harry walked up a steep hill. He could hear children playing in the distance, faint pauses in conversation, and the occasional understandable word was all that distinguished it from the wind.

As he reached the top of the mound, he saw a town bursting with colour and personality. It was awe-inspiring and yet... completely fabricated. There were no stories to be told here. No families come and gone. There was no love or laughter to be heard or seen. It was all a front.

Harry crouched down to inspect the footprints properly. One of the pairs was, in fact, quite a bit larger than the other.

Harry pressed his lips together in irritation. Ginny was with Tom. Or some form of him at the very least.

He hadn't had his mind to himself like this in so long. There was no voice responding to his thoughts. There was no presence constantly prodding at his insecurities and plans. It was odd, though slightly comforting.

Harry decided on continuing his walk down to the town. If anything, he could help Ginny with whatever it was she needed to be done.

As he got closer, he grew more frustrated. This wasn't right. Ginny shouldn't have to face this time after time. Voldemort was his fight. His destiny. She should have lived out a beautiful example of normalcy. Her greatest worries should've been over test scores and boys.

But, in the end, that was exactly the answer to his frustration. Voldemort was his fight, true, but Tom Riddle was Ginny's.

He stepped foot on the cobblestone road and flinched as his arrival echoed through the empty village. There was no one around. All the doors were boarded up and the original impression Harry had gotten from the hilltop was completely gone. Everything was white, brown or grey. The lanterns seemed to cast very little light, and Harry felt cold inside. Like a hundred dementors were swirling around him at once.

Harry stopped in his tracks as the realization sunk in. If a hundred dementors were on him, even though this was a dream, he'd still have no defense. He didn't care that they couldn't affect him. For all he knew, they could. This was a Horcrux at its core. Anything dark could come around any corner.

A sudden crash took Harry out of his morbid thoughts. He set his shoulders and took a step back, bending his knees slightly, ready to run at any moment.

It sounded like the wind, only full of emotion. Roiling with anger and sorrow. Harry felt its shadow before he saw it dim the light. An enormous black mass of raw magic swirling in a ball, crawling around the corner and into the crossroads of the town before him.

The word imposing was the best Harry could use to describe it. The mass of magic seemed to watch him. Harry could hear screams and tears from within the mass. Every once and a while he'd catch a brief piece of a long-forgotten conversation.

He could hear the sounds of children giggling and complaining.

This must have been what he'd heard as he climbed towards the town earlier.

It was a mass of memories. Evidently something Tom wasn't proud of. Full to the brim with years of, from what Harry felt, despair, regret, and anger.

It was creeping towards him, Harry noticed. He jumped to the side and rolled on the street. The mass didn't seem to react, only changing its slow-moving trajectory to follow him. The sounds of the memories pouring from the mass were dizzying but Harry screwed his eyes shut and focused back on the task at hand.

Get to Ginny.

He pictured the roof above the Charms classroom. The stars were clear in the sky. The air was terribly cold but the girl he was dancing with seemed to keep him warm.

The sound of the magical ball of despair vanished, and Harry reopened his eyes. He cast around for an object of some sort. A weapon.

He found a metal rod leaning against a boarded-up window and grabbed it. He looked up and saw a street oil lamp. A sudden idea surged within his mind, and he acted on the impulse. He struck the metal rod up and through the glass of the streetlight.

The oil coated the rod and caught fire, creating a flaming blade for Harry to wield.

He pointed it at the ball, and it recoiled. Its darkness stopped its onslaught on Harry's mind and shrunk away into the shadows of the buildings.

"Yeah… that's right," Harry gloated. He felt rather keen on himself, holding this blade of fire in his right hand. "Knight in shining armour, bitch."

Without the swirling mass, the street was eerily quiet once more. Harry held his flaming weapon in front of him, slowly making his way further down the street.

A sudden blast from down the road created a shockwave that barreled toward Harry. The flames around the rod were forced back, nearly burning Harry's face.

Harry heard a yell. It sounded familiar.

"Ginny," he breathed, before breaking out into a run to a poorly placed cottage in the middle of the lane.

---

"You are not trying, Ginevra," Tom insisted, grabbing her wrist and forcing her to sit back down. "You must detach yourself completely. You want this! You need this!"

Ginny blew air up her face to get a stray strand of hair back in order. She'd just let off a ridiculous amount of power that had gotten herself absolutely nowhere.

"You're shit at teaching things. Always were," Ginny complained, standing from the sofa and making an attempt to get to the balcony.

To grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look up at him. "Then why do you come begging me for a solution to your little problem? What's stopping you from making more?"

Ginny bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from losing her temper. She wouldn't make more Horcruxes because she despised the thought of creating one.

"You're ashamed to admit that you want to. You don't know if Regretfully Uncaring is going to work. You just need your fix, don't you?" Tom leaned down and Ginny swallowed, refusing to break eye contact.

"You know absolutely nothing about me. Do you know that? The diary knew me, but you aren't him," Ginny retorted triumphantly.

Tom smirked. "What makes you think we don't communicate? What makes you think we were different? Separated though we may be, we are still one man. One soul."

Ginny snorted. "The diary would have known every thought coursing through my mind. You clearly don't."

Tom quirked an eyebrow. "I will say, your mental defenses are stronger this time, but by flaunting your strengths you revealed your little secret."

Ginny shifted on her feet, moving as much as Tom's hold on her would allow. "What?"

"By explaining to me that I don't know what you're thinking, you've revealed that you have a plan in the first place," Tom elaborated. "You're unfathomably rash, you know. So determined to be stronger, better… I admire it in you because it proves that no matter how hard you may try to hide it, you still crave power."

Ginny rolled her eyes and let out an irritated breath. She didn't care for this conversation. She didn't care for his assumptions of her.

Tom hunched over her slightly, his arms wrapping around her back. "I can give that to you,"

Ginny felt the cold, sinking feeling settle into the pit of her stomach as she realized what Tom was going to do. He pulled her flush against his body and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

She pulled back and fidgeted with her hair, avoiding any and all eye contact now. She hated that he'd won. He'd broken her pedestal, forcing her to fall below him in their strange power struggle.

"When you do it," she said, her focus centered on the coffee table. "When you do Regretfully Uncaring, how do you… what do you see."

Tom smiled, his eyes creasing. "When a dementor performs the kiss," he cupped her cheek. "It is removing the soul. What I envision while performing regretfully uncaring is a dementor removing my soul from my body. I imagine that cold, emotionless feeling as I watch my soul detach itself from me. That… that is how I do it."

Ginny frowned, leaning into his palm. "Leaving your body?"

Tom dropped his hand from her face and nodded. "Would you like a demonstration?"

Ginny nodded, suddenly rather breathless. Her plan had to work, and this was her first step. Harry and Regulus would be back by now, she could finally finish this. All of it. The dream, the Horcrux, this horrible connection she shared with Tom, her own mind. Its thoughts, its dreams, its hatred.

It would all be over. At last, she could feel no pain, no hunger, no shame or regret. For she would be gone. Her soul lost to the winds of the world.

"Ginevra? Are you ready?" Tom asked politely, standing in front of her.

Ginny nodded again. "Whenever you're comfortable,"

Tom clenched his hands into fists and let all the air out of his lungs. "I'm picturing it now. I'm standing alone on the edge of a lake."

Ginny waited with bated breath. Her fingers twitched at her sides.

"The dementor is here now," Tom announced. "He's in front of me,"

Ginny moved her thumb in such a way that it caught on the tendon, forcing it to make a popping sound.

"He's lowering his hood… now I let myself go,"

Ginny saw it. Tom's entire demeanor changed. He gained a faraway look and didn't seem aware of his surroundings in the slightest.

She took a few steps forward so she was standing directly in front of him. She raised her hand and held it over his face, hesitating slightly.

If she did this, she'd feel nothing in return. It was entirely for his benefit, but she didn't care.

She wanted him dead.

With her hand hovering right above Tom's face, she focused every measurable percentage of magic within her on the words in her mind.

"Legilimens!"

By all logic, it shouldn't have worked. Wandless magic wasn't built for such things. In the end, however, she felt her magic bind with Tom's mind and saw everything he was working on. She was in a mind within a mind. A dream within a dream.

She'd broken through Tom's mind in his most vulnerable state.

He was standing there, his soul halfway between himself and the dementor. Ginny moved towards the pair and pushed the imagined dementor away. She held her hand over his soul, wandlessley keeping it in place.

"Can you hear me, Tom?" Ginny asked coldly.

His eyes shot open and, retaining his open-mouthed expression, turned to look at her. Dread seemed to spread across his face.

"Do you feel threatened? Cornered by your own mistakes?" Ginny asked with a smirk.

Tom closed his mouth, his soul still floating outside of his body, and clenched his jaw. There was nothing he could do in this situation. She was in power. She was in control.

"You tricked me," he whispered.

Ginny felt the satisfaction race through her system. A smile curved into her face, and she resisted the urge to laugh. "Yes. I did. How does it feel?"

"How? I can see every thought in your mind. Feel every emotion you felt."

Ginny feigned a gasp. "Tom… look at you," she cupped his cheek, mirroring his actions on her a few minutes prior. "You're terrified."

Tom snorted, holding her stare. "I'm not terrified. What reason do I have to be terrified of you? If you destroy my soul, you die. The dream cannot be supported without the Horcrux. You're trapped here, with no way out. The ship has already returned. You pose no threat to me."

Ginny shook her head. "You're terrified of me because I can manipulate you. I can use you," she dropped her hand from his face and turned to walk away, stringing him along by his very soul. "As for the collapsing nightmare… you can't even wrap your head around it, can you?"

Tom raised an eyebrow in question, still keeping his calm demeanor.

Ginny whirled around to face him, her boots splashing in the water of the lake. She again felt the need to fight back tears. "I don't fear death. In fact, I will welcome it with open arms," she sniffled and wiped at her nose with her free hand. "This isn't a life I want to lead. I will never look in the mirror and be happy with what I see. I will never admit that you won, Tom," her voice broke, and she paused. "But you broke me."

Tom stared right back at her with no reaction. No emotion.

"Say something," Ginny said, swallowing hard. "Give me a sign that you give a damn."

Tom shook his head slowly. He seemed… disappointed. "You've left my influence for a little over two years, and you already lost any strength you gained from me."

Ginny sucked in a breath. "What do you mean?"

Tom chuckled. His scarlet eyes shone with malice. "You were weak. I gave you the tools to grow. I gave you the tools to change. You used those tools adequately but the minute you broke free of me you chose to cast them aside and return to this pathetic shell you are now.

"You were nothing without me, and you have proven that you are still nothing without me. You face the consequences of your actions by running away. You run from Potter's werewolf bond. You run from me. You run from yourself, and now you have come to the point where you're sick of running and have decided to take the ultimate leap.

"You're going to sabotage a dream to give yourself some heroic sacrifice. To justify your suicide because you cannot even begin to reconcile with yourself. You won't make any attempt to work through your weaknesses because you need me. You cannot function without my guidance. Look at yourself. Free to the world and you lasted less than two months. You're selfish and manipulative. You think of nothing but what immediately affects you. You don't even have the brain capacity to think of what will happen to yourself in a year. Two years. A decade. A century."

He stepped into the lake, walking around Ginny and his hovering soul.

"You stand on your ability to love like a pedestal, yet you won't let yourself feel for anyone but your own delusions. You see yourself as superior to me, the man who flees from death, because you're here to "save the wizarding world" and kill yourself in the process? How is that better? We are both running. We are both afraid of something we cannot comprehend facing."

"Shut up." Ginny breathed.

"At least with me, I run in the efforts of success. I run to live. I run to grow." He prodded her chest, forcing her to take a step back. "You run to fail. You run to hide. You run so that you may never change. Life isn't fair. In fact, you bloody well knew that going into this "waking nightmare" as you so call it. Who is weaker, Ginevra? The man who wishes to succeed? Or the woman who gives up after making a mistake?"

Ginny wrapped her hand around his soul. It was frigid and she fought the urge to let it go. She wouldn't let him tip the power scale again. She had to win. "I hold this piece of you with every ounce of hatred in my body," she ground out through gritted teeth. "Harry will destroy the others. Maybe Ron will help too. I don't care."

She tightened her hold on his soul, she felt it crack like an ice cube under his fist. Tom shuddered and cringed. He could feel it.

"I don't care if you win. I don't care if you lose. I just want to watch at least one version of you die at my hands," she squeezed harder and heard it splinter. Tom hissed in pain, his eyes shutting. "I broke into the mind of your mind and hold your soul in my grasp. Look at me as I kill you, Tom."

Tom forced his eyes open, his body convulsing, and faced her. Ginny pressed her lips together, and just as she put the force in to crush his soul in between her fingers, Tom smirked. "Potter's still here!"

Then, he was gone. Exploded into a thousand sparks. Ginny felt her world turn upside down as she was forced out of his mind and back into the dream.

She rasped for breath, struggling to understand his final message.

The door to the sitting room she'd occupied burst open and there he stood. The boy she'd wished to never see again.

"Ginny!" Harry cried, sliding to the floor and wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

Ginny looked up at him, horror-struck. "What are you doing here," she whispered. "You're supposed to be gone. You're supposed to be awake."

Harry frowned down at her. "Why would I leave?"

"I told you not to wait," Ginny wailed. The crushing weight of what she'd just done slammed into her. "The dream is collapsing. Our souls will die with it."

Harry brought his right hand to support her mid-back. "What do you mean?"

The room around them dissolved into dust. Harry and Ginny floated down to the ground. The earth trembled and the air around them began to heat up.

"We're going to die here, Harry," Ginny said mournfully. "I destroyed the Horcrux. I took out the foundations of the dream."

She felt weak, her body couldn't support itself and Harry adjusted her in his arms to keep her eyes on his.

Harry wiped a few stray strands of hair out of her face and gave a lopsided, rueful smile. "Why… why would you do that? Hey? Why would you do that?" his voice cracked in his questions.

Ginny blinked up at him. "Why would I want to wake up?"

Harry swallowed, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "Because you're worth it, Ginny," he shifted her weight and lifted her slightly, bowing his head down to press against her forehead. "You're worth fighting for."

A colossal crash, like a tower being demolished, echoed through the collapsing dream. Ginny blinked, letting more tears fall. She felt Harry's mix with hers as he too began to cry.

"You would have died here… alone," Harry whispered. "Why would you do that to yourself?"

Ginny shrugged. She had no answer to give him. There was nothing she could say to Harry that would correctly portray how she felt.

A dazzling light burst into existence on the horizon. It grew and grew as it engulfed the world around them.

"There's a lot I would have liked to tell you," Harry croaked, his breath coming in uneasy gasps. "Waking up only to find you dead beside me."

Ginny let out a dry sob. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wouldn't have-"

Harry shook his head against hers. "No. Don't be sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for telling you to push it away and get over it in the cellar of the Riddle House. I'm sorry for not listening. I'm sorry for not checking on you. For not asking how you were doing,"

Ginny cried through Harry's apology. Great, shoulder-heaving sobs. The air was scorching hot now.

"I'm sorry for not noticing you with that damn diary… All of it, Ginny. I'm sorry."

There was a long pause filled with nothing but the impending white noise of catastrophe. Trees falling. Lands collapsing. The sky itself seemed to crack along the star patterns. Great chunks of it falling to the disappearing landscape.

"Can you hold my hand?" Ginny asked. The pleading tone in her voice was evidently trying to be concealed. "Like you did in the Chamber after the second task. Where your fingers go in between mine,"

Harry didn't respond. Instead, he slid his hand down to meet hers, doing exactly as she'd described. His scarred calloused fingers met hers. His hands dwarfed hers. In any other context, it might have made her laugh.

Here, however, as the world around them came apart at the seams, she relished in the warmth of his touch. Basking in the thoughts of what could have been.

She shut her eyes to avoid the sight of a hundred thousand thoughts and memories collapsing in front of her. "I'm sorry," she said again. She felt it was important to emphasize her regret. "You weren't supposed to be here. I made sure you wouldn't be here."

Harry hummed. "No," he sighed. "I'm glad I'm here. You let me keep my promise."

Ginny opened her eyes in confusion, turning to Harry in a silent plea for an answer.

He looked down at her with a wan smile. "Until the end."

The explosive horizon came ever closer. The sky fell into a million pieces. The air was superheated.

And yet Ginny finally felt at peace. She shut her eyes again, enjoying Harry's comforting arms, and sighed. It would have been nice to kiss him. See what a true connection could feel like. To be able to love someone without feeling forced into it.

That would have been lovely.

But as many before her had come to realize, you sometimes cannot live with each and every desire. Sometimes, there are sacrifices that must be made.

"Thank you, Harry," Ginny whispered. Her nose brushed against his. She didn't need to elaborate. It was a thank you of many layers. For the Chamber. For the dance on the roof. For his friendship. For his attention. For his care. For his smile. For his voice. For him.

"You're welcome," he replied. And in that moment, she knew he understood. Without any mental bond or teenage hormones. Harry knew.

Ginny used whatever strength she had remaining to lift her left arm up and wrap it around Harry. That he wasn't alone in giving comfort. He could feel her touch, her appreciation, her care as much as she did his.

The roar of the collapsing nightmare shattered Ginny's eardrums until she couldn't hear anything but a dull ringing. She opened her eyes one last time to meet Harry's. Everything around them was purely white thanks to how bright the death of the world was.

Ginny knew that even though hers and Harry's souls would be destroyed forever, the fight would continue in the waking world. Regulus would return to Sirius. The war would be won. And Voldemort would finally be defeated.

She'd played her part.

Then, everything stopped.

The light, the sound, everything.

She could hear Harry's ragged breathing in her ear and feel his arms around her, their noses pressed together, but she could not see him.

The silence was shattered by the ringing of a bell chiming from beyond.

Then, as consciousness escaped her, she heard a dull ticking sound, followed by the rushing of footsteps.

---

Regulus watched as Harry fell off the ship and down into the void of the eye. He was such a fool. The girl had told him to stay behind. They knew nothing of the risks. He was a walking corpse. He was the one who couldn't die. He should have dropped into the dream and ended it all.

Instead, he remained on the falling ship. It fell through the bottomless pit for hours on end. A dead man did not have any particularly strong sense of time but this was a confusing affair. Days may have passed by and he'd have had no idea.

Suddenly the ship lurched and pointed upward. It seemed he was on the way out. Someone had to stay behind. He'd hoped it would have been the children but that hadn't exactly gone to plan.

The ship climbed and climbed until finally, as it would have breached the surface, Regulus woke. He took a deep, rasping breath. He fumbled for his wand in his pocket and lit it, letting it fill the Peverell Chamber's off-shoot. It had been perfectly lit, like standing in the afternoon August sun when they'd fallen asleep.

Perhaps the charms were reflecting the outside world and the sun had merely set. Yes, that would explain things.

He passed his wand over the cold floor and froze.

He was alone.

Harry and Ginny's bodies were gone.

"Potter!" he cried, shuffling around the space in desperation. "Ginny! Hello? Kids!"

Then, he noticed something odd about the enchanted surroundings. There was snow on the ground and drifting from the heavens.

It seemed more time had passed than a mere few hours.

---

A/N: This chapter was hard.

It was hard to get the abusive relationship between Ginny and Tom right. It was hard to make Ginny's depression and motivations believable. It was hard to write my favourite characters suffering so much. It was just hard.

It was exhausting.

This ending is sort of ambiguous, I know. To anyone who's been paying attention, you should understand that this isn't Harry and Ginny's end.

I could have ended this chapter in a multitude of different ways but I chose the one that sets up the least amount of future plot. Why? Because we are going to be filling in some GAPS GUYS.

The next little while of chapters is Ron, Daphne, Dudley (I'm sure many of you forgot about that thread) Draco, Hermione, and the adults.

Another that's so unbelievably complicated with this whole chapter is that I really truly wanted this to be the Harry/Ginny get-together chapter. I really, desperately wanted it to be that. The thing is, you sort of write yourself into a corner because these characters just aren't ready for each other yet. Let alone the werewolf bond.

Ginny's on a path to recovery, and Harry understands what she is recovering from. So, we've essentially cocked the gun, now we have to pull the trigger.

This chapter went through many revisions in planning, and in writing. Here are some scrapped ideas.

This whole thing was a two-part chapter in which Harry, Ginny, and Regulus had to navigate a sort of simulation/situation Voldemort had made in the Horcrux. They had to play roles and figure out a classic noir mystery.

Unfortunately, this didn't move anyone's character forward and that bothered me. It would have been set in 1920s New York, and was pretty fun but didn't fit the tone of Act 3 and involved way too much damn research. In a fic that eventually has time travel elements, I've already got my work cut out for me in the historical research department.

There is a version of this chapter in which Ginny actually finishes off Voldemort entirely, but that was stupid and Greyback doesn't have the presence currently to be the main villain. Crouch is good, but he's Ron's punching bag.

At one point, I was going to establish Daphne's role in all this by the end of this chapter, but we'd already had like two emotional resolutions. I didn't need a third.

I could go on and on about what I think is good about my story but the one thing I'm genuinely proud of is Ginny and Tom's dynamic. Ginny doesn't really grasp her self-worth, Tom knows how to get to her head and by breaking down her character in his monologue he's essentially proving that she does, in fact, need him.

Tom is clearly the villain, but he isn't exactly wrong. We as the audience know that to an extent, and Ginny knows it too. But of course, all she's going to take from this is that she must need him because he keeps tying everything back to him. It's manipulation and toxicity at its finest.

Also, little thing, but the way Harry touches Ginny versus how Tom touches Ginny is neat. Tom never touches her unless it's for his own benefit. Grabbing her face, holding her shoulders, whatever. It's always for him.

When Harry comes and finds her after she shatters Tom's soul, he supports her, physically and emotionally, through the way he touches her. It's little but it's important and shows the contrast between love interests.

Anyway, there is a lot of stuff from this chapter that I liked and cut. A lot of it is going to be used in later chapters so didn't worry you'll see some form of it eventually.

Sorry for not getting Harry and Ginny together. It just wasn't the right time.

Thanks for reading. I'll update soon.

Happy Birthday Dad!

(Please Review.)